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Visiting Martha and Paulina

Ipapashiwe: 09.06.2017

June 9, 2017

It's wonderful that I can easily use all electronic devices here again. The hotel's Wi-Fi works perfectly, the reports were uploaded in no time yesterday, as well as the photos. However, there are some photos that cannot be uploaded to the vacation blog. It's a shame, some of them are beautiful pictures. It just doesn't work. I will research the problem on Google.

This morning, I planned to write the blog 'Goodbye Tawasap' and then drive north to visit my host mother from a few weeks ago. Maybe it's a bit rude, but I will show up before noon, then someone will definitely be there because they always have students in their rooms, and most importantly, I will be able to see Tanja, who should still be there for another week.

But first, I had to take the ecovia bus, the same bus where I was robbed, from the Quitumbe terminal to the north. Since I didn't fully trust the people at the hotel either, I did it the way I did it in the jungle. I packed everything valuable in my blue backpack. I put my phone with the credit card and money, which I still had to get, in my left pocket. I put a few dollars in my right pocket. I wouldn't take my left hand out of my pocket for a moment. The blue backpack couldn't be cut open quickly, and most importantly, it had to be cut exactly right to access the folder with money, passport, and wallet with Swiss francs and euros. With a face that resembled a local European and the backpack strapped on, nothing could go wrong. And indeed, nothing did, despite the inevitable crowd. I traveled from Quitumbe to the Estadio Olimpico Atahualpa. There, I would use an ATM that once spit out money for me, and then I would eat breakfast somewhere. After breakfast, I would buy a bouquet from the flower seller on Avenida Portugal and take the path uphill that I had wished for so much a few weeks ago. I didn't want to visit the school because Fridays are always busy due to farewells, and everyone is in a hurry to get home. I was late for the break, and it's just not possible to do everything when I want to do it without stress.

So that's what I did: ATM - hot sandwich with cheese and cola instead of breakfast, followed by a double espresso - pastry shop instead of a bouquet of flowers, and then up to Guanguiltagua, the street where I lived for four weeks.

Martha was actually there. I hugged her warmly when she came downstairs and opened the door. She took me to the living room, not the dining room, and we talked about the jungle. It wasn't just me who had stories to tell, she did too because more than forty years ago, she and her husband spent almost two years in the jungle. He was an officer at the time, during the border disputes with Peru. It was really nice, and somehow my language deficiencies were completely irrelevant. Tanja arrived at one o'clock, not surprised that I was there. After a short greeting, she quickly went to her room, which used to be mine, and brought me ... the letter from my students. I had forgotten to take it out of the picture frame that Saturday morning, so it didn't come with me to the jungle. I had actually hoped to get it back because it means a lot to me. My idea was to make a little boat out of it and then put it in the river. That way, it could float down the entire Amazon and have many adventures. Well, that wasn't possible, unfortunately, and I will come up with something else. Paulina arrived just before lunch, to which I was also invited. That went well because I only had half a portion since my stomach was still dealing with the wonderful cheese sandwich. With the promise to visit the family again on my next visit to Ecuador, I left and marched straight to the hairdresser, the same one I went to four weeks ago. The same as last time, this time trim the beard to level two, please. I also had a conversation with the hairdresser, a Venezuelan who had been working here for eight months.

Then back to the ecovia station and started the journey back to Quitumbe. Also on the ecovia, without being robbed. Learned something new, you have to change at Marina Central. Finally, at the hotel, I had a video call with home, Andi and Vivi, after a long time. It was nice to talk again and see that everything is as I imagined it to be. Vivi is healthy again, Andi not as stressed as before, but still busy, resolving issues with Aline, experiences here, events there, news there, current events here. It's nice to chat, and I finally feel free and much happier here.

Oh, another good news. I spoke to Marco Nyffeler on the phone. He will pick me up here tomorrow at ten, and the volunteer apartment has Wi-Fi. Yippee. That means I can write my blog daily, read 20 minutes, and watch the Tatort crime series on Sunday evening with a delay. That's what I call quality of life.

By the way, the silence and seclusion in the jungle were also a quality of life. But now I'm sure what I prefer. Especially sleep, it was much better there than here in Quito before. Although: last night here at the hotel, I had no problem sleeping at all. Before the jungle time, I always had breathing pauses at night. Strange, but it was as if I just had to remind myself in between: hey, hello, don't forget to breathe! Like sixteen years ago during the high altitude week at 3000 meters, in the Britanniahütte above Saas Fee.

I am slowly becoming an Ecuadorian, I'm afraid.


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